


six feet under, can't help but wonder

by bangin_patchouli



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Angst, Apologies, Arguments, Break Up, Canon, Canon Compliant, Canon Universe, EXO - Freeform, Everything is Beautiful and Everything Hurts, Heartbreak, Heartbreaking, Heavy Angst, Idol Verse, Kaihun - Freeform, Light Angst, M/M, Makeup, Makeup Sex, Sehun fixes everything its alright, sekai - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-14
Updated: 2017-03-14
Packaged: 2018-10-04 20:50:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10289429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bangin_patchouli/pseuds/bangin_patchouli
Summary: i thought this wouldn't hurt a lot, i guess not.-this is a series (that i will hopefully finish) about unloving someone, or loving them too much.





	1. one.

**Author's Note:**

> these are all derived from an Unlove You prompt list on tumblr. They won't all be the same ship, or the same group, just a heads up. (http://30daychallengearchive.tumblr.com/post/36615876636/un-love-you-writingart-30-day-challenge)
> 
>  
> 
> 1\. You were right about me.

      It’s hard to watch what you say sometimes, hard to keep the words from falling from your mouth and cutting the nearest person, altering anything they’e ever thought. It’s hard to see the aftermath, watch someone crumble, after something you said. It’s hard knowing that, no matter how much meaning was behind it, it’s your fault.

  
      It sucks, really, because what he said was said in anger, a spitting hot anger on both sides, one that had each of them saying things they wouldn’t have. Except, Sehun took it too far. He made it much too personal, made it about something uncontrollable, something that hit home, cracked right down the middle of the glass of Jongin’s heart until it shattered.

      Sehun regrets it; he regrets it to the point that everything he does, everything he says, is done in attempt to fix was he said before. But it doesn’t matter. He’s not blind. He can see the effect his harsh words are having. It’s far too late to take them back, regardless of anything he can possibly do.

      It’s late, way too late for Jongin to be pouring his heart out to the sweat-stained wood of the studio, way too late for Jongin to be violently wallowing in words, beating himself up for something said in a verbal storm of furious passion, but Sehun knows he is. He knows because he’s there, on the other side of the glass, feeling his heart crumbling to pieces with every count of the music, the music that Jongin shouldn't be listening to, dancing to because, damn it, he’s just hurting himself more. But Sehun stands frozen, helpless, watching with eyes full of pity, eyes full of apology. He can’t say it, doesn't know how. It’s stuck in his throat, ripping it to shreds like an angry shot of alcohol, but he can’t fix this with some water and a good night’s sleep. No, this is a spreading wild fire, in the middle of nowhere, nobody to see it but the trees themselves as they’re being burned alive, defenseless.

      A stumble is all it takes, all it takes for Sehun to break his own statuette. A stumble before damp hands hit the floor and knees slam against the wood and sweat-dripping hair hangs over a forehead, hindering the vision Jongin needs to see Sehun burst through door, letting it slam harshly against the paint-peeling wall. Sehun sees Jongin’s hands brace his own fall, and he’s already breathing so hard, already losing his cool again, and no, he can’t, this is what started it all in the first place. It’s one step and another, and a few more, until Sehun is almost where he needs to be, almost close enough to touch, almost close enough to console. He should hold Jongin, he should do what he knows he needs to, what he wants to do, but he doesn’t.

      “Stop,” he says instead, voice a murmur, and it’s too late that Sehun realizes no way he can hear me over this goddamned music. “Jongin, stop it.”

      Sehun falls to his knees, following suit with Jongin of his own accord. He’s behind the fallen dancer, hands hovering, heart race picking up excessively. Sehun snakes his hands quickly, too fast for Jongin to refuse, over the back of Jongin, taking him in roughly, letting his back hit against Sehun’s chest. He feels the wet warmth through both if their t-shirts. Jongin’s head hangs, and Sehun can feel the uneven, jarring breaths on his own chests, the ones that are wracking Jongin’s body as he fails to ease his own hysteria. His arms are shaking underneath him, from overexertion, from the acid threatening to fulminate from his throat.

      “Jongin, please,” Sehun murmurs, “calm down, baby, calm down.” He feels his eyes sting, they shouldn't be; he shouldn't be calling Jongin baby. He shouldn't be seeing Jongin working himself out, over, beyond, too much. He shouldn't be feeling Jongin’s back against him, trembling, fighting to breathe, hanging on to anything to stay grounded. He shouldn't be hearing the painful, staggered, oh-so-agonizing cries that Jongin is trying so hard to contain, ripping through his teeth and fighting with the music for recognition. He shouldn't have his lips this close to Jongin’s ear, to Jongin’s neck, to Jongin’s lips, to Jongin. This shouldn't be happening.

      In a fast, shuddering movement like broken lightning, Jongin is turned to face Sehun, and Sehun doesn't want this, he never did. He doesn't want to see the lovely, fat tears rolling down Jongin’s reddened cheeks, the tears Sehun knows are his doing. He doesn't want to see Jongin’s Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he struggles, the vein bouncing methodically on the side of Jongin’s neck. He doesn't want to feel Jongin’s hands fisted in his jeans, holding tight for sanity. He doesn't want to want to kiss Jongin’s forehead. He just doesn’t.

      He doesn't want to, he fights against it, but Sehun lets his hands travel up Jongin’s arms and his taut waist, holding him steady, steady as he could be when Sehun’s own hands were just as unstable. Sehun’s eyes are frozen as Jongin falls apart in front of him.

      “You were right about me,” Jongin clamors through gritted teeth, and Sehun can't take it, he can’t take that because it’s wrong, he was wrong.

      _You try too fucking hard, you know that? You aren't going to be what you want so badly to be, because you try too hard. That’s why it’s not working, nothing else._

      “Sehun, you were right, you were right,” Jongin mutters, lips halting, quivering, slick with spit, and in the most noxious way, Sehun thinks he’s beautiful. “It’s my fucking fault, I-“

      “No.” Sehun can’t let him lie, that’s what started this mess. “No, baby.” There he goes again, but somehow his voice sounds steady. “It’s mine.”

      And then it’s Jongin’s beautiful lips against his own lips, Jongin’s head tilted compliantly, weakly upward by Sehun’s two fingers. Sehun’s hand pushes away Jongin’s hair, it’s in the way, his hand stilling to rest on the side of Jongin’s face. Need, apology, regret, fear, everything goes into the way Sehun tugs at Jongin’s lip, the way he feels Jongin sloppily give in, the knock of their foreheads, the reconnection of everything, though now the edges are different, fitting together in a new way.

      For once, Sehun is wrong, and he knows it. He doesn't ever want to be wrong again if it means not getting to feel Jongin with him, against him, in his mouth, on his lap, in his heart.

 


	2. two. (continuation of 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reconciliation is key.
> 
> -
> 
> "I was wrong about you." (continuation of chapter one.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so i actually planned this chapter out today and its not gonna be as ... heartbreaking as the tags say. but! it is a continuation of the first chapter, so it's sort of like. after that little episode thing. i just can't seem to break someone up apparently haha

It’s quiet now. The hush of the room, doused in darkness and suffocated by silence, leaves everything out in the open, all of their thoughts, all the concealed touches, the touches that were aberrantly cautious. The sheets beneath the two of them are warm, but everything feels as cold as ice, like the hands of frost are crawling their way up Sehun’s bare arms, taking over him all the way down to his lungs. Jongin is beside him, but he isn't warm tonight; Sehun can't feel him. There’s a space between them, one that stops any words from coming out of either of their mouths, a space made of air and lonely nights piled up on top of each other. Sehun wants nothing more than to close the gap; it hurts to see Jongin so close but so far away.  
  
Sehun raises up to lean on his elbow, eyes wide and adjusted on Jongin in the dark. The other faces away from Sehun, purposefully so; he’s got a loose, long-sleeved shirt on, yellow, Sehun remembers from when he put it on as soon as they got home. His shoulders look coldly withdrawn, like he’s shutting himself away, exhausted. His hair, a long, soft brown and naturally waved, splays from how he unintentionally laid it across the withered, stark blue of the pillow. It matches, and Sehun remembers why they bought this sheet set. Seeing the faint definition of Jongin’s visible neck and shoulders where they connect makes Sehun want to reach out with gentle but brazen fingers and touch what he hasn’t. He _wants_ to. He doesn’t.

      “Jongin,” he settles for murmuring. He automatically knows when he catches the attention of Jongin. He sees his shoulders tense, more than they already are. Jongin is not asleep, how could he be? He doesn't say anything, but he doesn't stop Sehun either. Sehun inches closer on the mattress, missing the warmth that came with lying upon these sheets. He’s closer to it already.

      “Jongin,” he repeats, emphasizing, “ _I was wrong about you_. I was wrong.”

      This stops all movement, all breathing, both heartbeats, everything in the room. It’s just the world halting to a stop as Sehun stares ceaselessly at Jongin. Sehun is closer than he thought now, not remembering having moving this close, but he doesn't leave. He waits for Jongin, keeping the lead slow.

      “Jongin,” he whispers lullingly, brushing his hand slowly over the aged sheets, loud enough for Jongin to hear. It’s an advanced, and while it doesn't go unnoticed, it is not stopped and Sehun can feel his heart beating faster. “Baby.” _There he goes again with that word._

      Jongin moves then, loosening like it’s that one word that affects him, like it’s resupplying his air. Sehun can feel things coming back, falling into their places like pieces in a puzzle. Jongin doesn't face him, but Sehun feels himself be given permission to move even closer, closer, closer until Jongin’s back is at his chest again, like it was back in the studio when they peaked the mountain of tension and everything exploded in their both faces, except now their breathing was calmer, their minds easing each other. Now, they’re inching down slowly, holding onto one another for each hesitant step.

      Sehun talks with his hand, then. _Can I?_ he asks, smoothing his fingers diffidently over the textured fabric on Jongin’s arm, instantly feeling the implausibly missed warmth under his fingertips. Jongin’s deep, tremulous breath tells him _You can_. His hand finds it’s way farther, fluttering, poised over Jongin’s abdomen, curling to match with the curve of Jongin’s toned, covered waist. Jongin leans back, subconsciously or intentionally, Sehun doesn't know, and Sehun lets his other arm wonder to slide under Jongin’s head. Sehun’s fingers find their way to Jongin’s hair while his lips find their way to Jongin’s deliberately bared neck, leaving trails of amendment all over his skin. His fingers card through chestnut strands gently, and he nips delicately at Jongin’s ear, reveling in the small, voiced response that he receives. A low-toned noise rumbles in his own throat, and in seconds, he’s awake, skin alight with ardency.

      Sehun is hovered over Jongin’s body now as he’s turned to lie on his back, and underneath the careful position of Sehun’s legs, Jongin looks so incredibly heavenly, all tanned skin, mussed hair, and a dazed expression with bright eyes that Sehun almost can’t handle, that Sehun wonders how he ever let that verbal slap leave his lips. Once again, he asks _Can I?_ this time with his eyes and it takes less than a second for Sehun to oblige to the _Yes, please_ that came his way.

      In moments the room was illuminated ablaze, a certain contrast from the agonizing tension from before. It’s taut, libertine noises echoing off the walls, fingers twisted in sheets, lips on lips, lips on necks, frantic, destitute hands reaching what they can, touching what they know best. Sehun’s hands drag down Jongin’s body, and Jongin’s hand twist in Sehun’s hair. Sehun’s lips touch sensitive spots that trigger noises that he hasn't heard in far too long, and he can see it, _loves_ to see it, when the stars paint Jongin’s eyes and the feelings of exhilaration and euphoria overtake his entire body and he felt it like he’s never going to feel it again. That’s when Sehun _knows_ he's never going to let Jongin hurt ever again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHEW i finished this in like 2 hours? it went somewhere that i was not expecting it to go but... i hope it was okay. feel free to let me know of any mistakes because jesus christ himself knows that there are some lol... anyway i hope this was of some enjoyment. (p.s. im really fucking sucky at ending things as of right now aka always? hope that didn't ruin anything lmao)

**Author's Note:**

> this is a mess haha


End file.
